


pink is the color

by tryslora



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Community: fullmoon_ficlet, King Sheriff Stilinski, M/M, Prince Stiles, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 08:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14745170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: The photo goes viral on Tuesday night, but Stiles doesn't see it until Wednesday morning. And when he does, he realizes that that man is sitting outside HIS palace, and is wearing HIS soulmark, and Stiles has absolutely no clue who he is...





	pink is the color

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Prompt #277 - Pink at Fullmoon Ficlet and was at least partly inspired by the photo of Meghan Markle outside of Buckingham Palace that's been going around with the royal wedding and all. It is not what I expected to be writing for this prompt, and is very much just a piece of fluff.

The photo from _CorasCreations_ goes viral on a Tuesday afternoon, but Stiles doesn’t see it until he wakes up on Wednesday morning. He’s flipping through Twitter, hits the _#royals_ hashtag like he always does, but just like usual, there’s nothing but British news there. He tries _#beaconroyals_ on a lark, and it pops up at the top of list.

And the second, third, and a few thousand or more other entries as well.

That’s his palace in the background. And sitting on the fence out front are a man and woman, leaning together, noses scrunched as they look at the camera. She’s drop dead gorgeous, long dark hair and bright green eyes; her smile is wide enough and sharp enough to kill. He has bunny teeth, and a thick scruff on his chin, and one hand is raised to block the sun.

The caption on the photo reads _tell my brother that pink is in_ and Stiles supposes that refers to the salmon pink button-down shirt the man is wearing.

He doesn’t care about that.

All he cares about is that the cuff has slid down the man’s wrist, and Stiles can just barely see the curve of ink there.

He zooms in, and yes. Yes. There’s a black raven, wings spread, visible on the inside of his wrist.

This man’s soul mark is exposed.

Stiles reaches for the nightstand, slapping at it repeatedly before he realizes that his phone in his hand. He screenshots the zoomed in image, sends it to Allison and Scott.

_Security emergency. This picture was taken yesterday just outside the palace and I need you to find me this man._

#

Scott peers at the laptop screen. “I don’t know, Stiles. Are you sure?”

Stiles brandishes his own wrist. “I’m sure, Scott. I’m sure. Don’t you see it?”

“He could be right.” Allison slides her knives into pockets that are so well hidden that Stiles can’t even tell she’s carrying them. “I’ll put Lydia on it, Stiles, but you have to stay here.”

“No.” Stiles isn’t going to wait around for this to happen. “He’s here. In Beacon. I need to go get him.”

“And give your dad a coronary while you’re at it,” Scott says mildly. “Maybe killing the king with stress isn’t such a good idea.”

“I have an idea.” Allison grabs Stiles’s phone from where he finally dropped it on the bed, holds it out to him. “Open up Twitter.”

He can see where she’s going with this. Or he knows where he’d be going if he were her, so Stiles starts typing before Allison dictates.

He presses retweet on the _CorasCreations_ original tweet, and adds _Pink is awesome, and if this guy comes to the palace in Beacon, we’ll give him a tour and a photo op to prove it._

He shows the tweet to Allison and Scott after it’s sent.

“You just invited him here,” Allison says.

“Dude.” Scott shakes his head. “Your dad is not going to be happy with you inviting strangers into the palace. You have security for a reason.”

“Exactly.” Stiles wedges himself between them, an arm over each of their shoulders. “You’ve protected me since forever, and you’ll protect me now. Because I want to meet my soulmate.”

#

Stiles tugs at the cuffs of his button-down shirt. “It’s too formal,” he mutters.

“It’s the only thing pink I could find on five minutes notice. At least I’m not making you wear a tie.” Lydia smoothes it across his chest, then straightens the collar. “Stop fidgeting; you look fine.”

“I need to roll up the sleeves.” Stiles unbuttons the left cuff, starts working on rolling it as neatly and quickly as he can. Lydia stops him, unrolls it again and buttons it.

“No, you don’t. Not until we can confirm that his mark matches yours,” she says quietly. “Your mark is a state secret, Stiles. We don’t want someone to think that they can weasel their way into our monarchy by appealing to your hunger for a soulmate.”

“You think he’s faking it.”

She touches his cheek, kisses his forehead. “No. That picture looked like an accidental slip—he wasn’t planning on his mark being in the photograph. But it’s possible that it’s not the same as yours. It’s happened before.”

Stiles doesn’t want to think about that now, about how Heather’s raven never spread its wings, or how Malia’s bird had golden outlines when he looked closely enough at the edges. He presses his fingers tight around his wrist. “Fine.”

“Your Highness.” A rap at the door as it opens, and Scott and Allison stand there, with three people. Scott speaks formally. “May I present the Hales, on holiday from the States and in Beacon for a week. This is Cora Hale, of _CorasCreations_ , and her elder siblings Laura, and Derek.”

Cora bursts out laughing, covering her hand with her mouth. “Sorry,” she says, and she sounds anything but. “Derek, he has your shirt.”

Derek’s cheeks are tinged with red, flushed beneath the scruff. He isn’t dressed as nicely today, in a simple short sleeved t-shirt for the warm day. Stiles holds out his hand in offering, and Derek takes it.

Sparks leap between their fingertips before they even touch, dancing around their clasped palms. Something tickles at Stiles’s wrist, and as he watches, the ink on Derek’s wrist changes. The raven unfurls it’s wings, flaps them once, then settles back again.

Stiles yanks his hand back, rips open the buttons of his cuff and pulls it back. Shows it to Lydia, who examines them both.

“What.” It’s not a question from Derek, simply a flat statement.

“You—” Stiles tries to say. He gestures, fingers indicating Derek’s face, his chest, his hand. “Your cuff slipped. I saw your mark. We match.”

“What,” Derek says again.

“Holy shit, Derek. This is way more than a pink shirt.” Cora has Stiles’s hand in hers, as if she’s allowed to just touch him. Stiles waves Allison off before she can intervene, and lets Cora look her fill. “He’s right. This is your mark. And it’s his mark. Your soulmate is a fucking prince.”

“Not fucking yet, but hopefully soon,” Stiles says before he can think better of it.

Derek’s gaze snaps to his. “What.”

“You’ve said that.” Laura swats the back of Derek’s head, then grips Cora’s shoulder. “We’re going to be outside. And maybe the prince’s security detail might be willing to give you guys some privacy.”

“No,” Scott says, while Allison says, “yes.”

“I’m not going to hurt him.” Derek’s voice is soft, a higher tenor than Stiles had expected. His mouth hangs slightly open, the bunny teeth softening his gruff exterior. “You can kill me if I do.”

“Derek is very dramatic,” Cora says. “You should have heard what he had to say about the pink shirt originally.”

“Pink isn’t so bad.” Derek slides his hand over Stiles’s arm, thumb against the mark.

It feels like being shocked all over again.

“Go,” Stiles orders, and it’s Allison who manages to get them all to finally leave the room.

They stand there for several long moments. Derek takes Stiles’s other hand in his, holds them both as he stares at him, brow furrowed.

“Are you memorizing my face?” Stiles asks.

“Maybe.”

“Memorize faster because I’m guessing we have about ten minutes until my father the king walks in here, because as much as Scott does everything his girlfriend says, in the long run, my safety actually trumps her trying to tell him what to do,” Stiles says. “Which means he’ll call my dad, Allison will try to keep everyone out, and Dad will interrupt us because in the end, he’s the king, so what he says goes and all.”

“Right.” Derek shakes his head, lets go of Stiles’s hands. “This is… a lot.”

“I know,” Stiles says. “But the thing is, it’s a lot of important. It’s us. Like—this is a thing that brings us together, even though you’re from one place and I’m a prince from another, and I honestly don’t care about any of that because I’d just like it if you and your family could stay here for a little while. So we could get to know each other. Because yes, there are sparks when we touch, and that’s awesome—I mean, imagine what it’d be like if other parts touched and there are sparks.”

Derek flushes to the tips of his ears. “Right.”

“But the point is. That’s all physical. And well, I want to know you.” Stiles crowds in close, pleased when Derek lets him, puts his hands on Stiles’s shoulders and holds him. “I want to know the guy who let his sister photograph him and then tease him on the internet.”

“Cora’s a photographer. She likes to use me and Laura as subjects,” Derek says.

“I can see why, and I get the feeling I am going to like her a lot. She seems snarky. And she can stay too, if you do.” Stiles leans in, and they end up forehead to forehead. “Please. Stay. For a little while.”

“Okay,” Derek agrees.

They barely manage to seal the agreement with a kiss before the door slams open, and Stiles’s father is there.

“Derek,” Stiles says with a sigh. “Please allow me to introduce the King of Beacon, His Royal Highness, Janusz Stilinski.”

#

Wednesday night, _CorasCreations_ goes viral for the second time in twenty-four hours. This time it’s the picture she takes of Stiles and Derek together, both in pink button down shirts, the sleeves cuffed and rolled to show their matching marks as they sit on the same fence outside the palace.

_My brother, the prince’s soulmate. Pink is the color of true love, huh?_

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me [on tumblr](http://tryslora.tumblr.com) and [on twitter](https://twitter.com/tryslora). If you like my fanfic, you might also like my original work at [Welcome to PHU](http://welcometophu.tumblr.com).


End file.
